The Hearts Filthy Lessons
by I Am The Prince of Wales
Summary: Season Eight.  Buffy activated the potential slayers, now she faces the consequences of that action.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Heart's Filthy Lessons**

**Disclaimer**: All characters are the property of Joss Whedon, 20th Century Fox, et al.  
**  
Rating: **T, but with some breathing room for later.

**Author's Notes: **This story is set during Season Eight, immediately following "The Long Way Home." This is my first ever Buffy story so, please review.

**Part One: Lost Girls  
**

**Sunnydale, 2002**

During all five of the consistently busy years of operation in Sunnydale, amazingly few of the people to walk through Rack's door were thinking at the time "wow, my life is going exactly where I want it to go right now."

Maybe one of two, but since they invariably left a corpse or two in their wake, they aren't really worth mentioning.

Still, if you asked any one of those thousands of lost souls to drift in and out of Rack's enchanted lobby to assess the state of any breathing organism turning to Rack for help with any problem more relevant than getting stupendously high faster than modern science would allow, every last one of them would declare that sorry individual "royally boned."

"I _know_ I'm royally boned!" Warren Mears admitted. "But there's got to be something that will get that stupid bitch off my ass!"

"I have given you what you've asked for," Rack replied with characteristic lack of emotion.

"You've given my cheap tricks," Warren snorted back. "Magic jelly, a silver snitch... I'm not fighting Hermione Granger, this bitch is going to kill me!"

"If you don't want what I have to offer..." Rack reached out to back the bag.

"No, n-no, I do!" Warren recoiled, clutching the bag to his chest like a security blanket. "It's just... I think we need something _bigger._ Something that will really take everyone by surprise."

The door swung open and Warren instinctively jumped for his bag, but Rack held him back with an arm. "It's just one of my regulars."

A girl about Warren's own age (if he could accurately measure such things without looking at her face), ambled into the room. "Hey Rack, I know you're with someone right now, but..."

Rack silenced her with a finger. "Amy, there are some customers I can always make time for."

Warren cleared his throat (or attempted to clear his throat, it ended up getting caught halfway) loudly in Rack's ear. Eminent destruction or not, he felt this was definitely someone he should be introduced to.

"_This_," Rack spat with undisguised disgust, "is Warren."

Amy shot Rack a look that spoke several dozen volumes of "why should I care and how does that help me get stoned?"

"He's having some... trouble... with your friend Strawberry," Rack explained.

Then Amy's expression changed. She cocked her head to the side and looked him up and down.

Rack smiled. "He might even have to kill her."

"_Really_?" she asked. Warren wasn't sure how he'd name the look she was giving him, but he knew that only one woman had ever given it to him before without being pre-programmed to do so.

Warren cracked a nervous smile, trying to exude confidence while simultaneously struggling to restrain his bowels. "Yeah, it's looking that way, baby."

Amy smiled slyly at him. "Well, I'll have to keep my eye on you, then..."

Rack shook off a laugh. He was always amazed by the ability of sociopathic losers to attract intelligent, capable women.

---

**Scotland, Now**

For time immemorial Kardash the Unkillable had walked the earth, brutally humbling all who might stand in his way, feasting on their flesh and drinking deep of their life's blood. Most would rather set themselves ablaze than face him in battle and the few had dared to challenge him, Warrior of Darkness and Soldier of Light alike, had given him little more than a moment's pause.

Which made the puny human female in smiling front of him all the more puzzling.

"Do you remember that one episode of 'the Simpsons' where Bart decides he's going to take down Nelson Muntz and Nelson says 'you and what army?'"

Kardash merely snorted in contempt.

"That's too bad," the human said as more of her kind, each of them armed for battle, poured into the dank cavern. "It was a classic."

"Think you that I fear your pathetic resistance?" Kardash roared. "I am Kardash the Unkillable! When man was but a insect crawling onto the land, I walked and I killed. I am a thousand times older than your line and night-walkers you are trained to battle! I have been worshiped, feared, and honored for longer than your kind could use fire or walk upright!"

"And yet you end up being a field test." The first female made an expression he had no word to describe. "That's kinda sad."

Releasing a powerful growl, Kardash threw himself at her.

"_Now_," the lead female lectured while somehow dodging the heavy blows of his war-axe, "what do you notice about CarMax here?"

"He looks like he was drawn by Jack Kirby," another small female offered.

"Very good, Renee, Xander would be proud," the first female replied as another heavy blow narrowly missed her head. "But what can you tell me about the way he _attacks_?"

"He's slow," a third female volunteered.

At this point Kardash was beside himself with rage, swinging his axe hard enough to bring down mountains, but still the lead female evaded every strike while the other, weaker specimens stood a distance away.

"Exactly, gold star for Satsu," the leader chirped annoyingly. "See, he's putting all of his strength behind a single strike, which gets you more power, but costs you speed. It's worked well for him for centuries, but when you're fighting someone that's got the agility and speed of a slayer... it's just not going to hack it."

At this point Kardash was understandably pissed at having his status as warrior questioned by a pack of creatures he could devour whole by the dozen. "If it be speed you desire, she-wench, then you could ask for none greater than Kardash the Unkillable," he roared as he launched into his whirling Death Dance, determined to end every last one of them.

"Okay, he's going into a desperation strike," the leader explained, "which means he's losing focus. I don't want all of _you_ to make mistakes like this when we go into a real battle," she commanded calmly. "Now, everybody watch yourselves and watch each other... nobody get too close."

The Dance had been taught to him in the time of the Old Ones; it was as beautiful as it was deadly and none that had witnessed it had ever escaped to tell of it. Kardash himself was so spent after a performance that he could only engage in the dance once a cycle. That was enough.

The winds whipped, the earth shook, the very trees themselves screamed out their deathcries, and the skies wept. Time had no meaning, ages past in the space of seconds... all while frozen in the moment. This was the power of the Dance.

When the Dance finally came to a close, he was certain his victory had been total.

"Now, this is another thing a lot of these older demons do a lot," that same horrible voice rang out. "They'll put all this effort into some kind of big showy special moves when they should have spent more time thinking about the basics, like knowing when to lie low."

Kardash surveyed the army of females in disbelief. All injuries were minor and, while they had been strewn about somewhat, it appeared to be more the result of an effective evasive strategy than his previously legendary assault.

Angered, shocked, and spent, Kardash the Unkillable found himself running for the first time in countless epochs...

...Only to find himself facing a second army of female humans.

"Looks like you weren't expecting Xander Harris and his Fabulous Fighting Female Furies," a male human with a single eye somehow managed to say completely straight-faced. "Bring him down, girls."

----

"I just don't get is how he did it," Dawn announced.

"Well, a thricewise is..." Willow started to remind her gently.

"Not _that_," Dawn interrupted, clearly tired of having this pointed out to her again and again. "I meant Warren."

Willow could understand a lot of what Warren could do, having _been him_ and all. She would never admit that, though. "What do you mean, Dawnie?"

"I mean, how could he have been alive _and_ been The First?" Dawn asked, understandably confused. "I mean, The First could only take the form of dead people and Warren wasn't really dead, right?"

"Well... it's not always that concrete," Willow admitted, taking it slowly, not for Dawn's sake so much as her own. "I mean, The First could appear as Spike or Buffy..." Willow tried her best to look Dawn in the eyes, something made all the more complicated by the radically difference in scale that had recently asserted itself. "It's like... he's dead _enough_."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Dawn finally said what she'd been dancing around all along. "So... you still killed him."

"Yeah," Willow replied with quiet remorse. "I'll always have killed him."

And then things went all silenty.

----

"You know, I'm really jealous of the way you handle those girls," Buffy admitted.

"Shen... mue?" Xander replied, his mind too full of utter bafflement to come up with a more coherent response.

"Your team always works so well together," Buffy said, entering 'splainy mode. "I keep telling my girls 'use team work! Go team all the way!' But every time they get out on the field, it's every girl for herself."

"The exercise went well enough," Xander pointed out. "I mean, I wasn't dancing my happy dance when I found out we were going to have to bury old Big Ugly, but... hey, they can't all turn to dust... or melt... or implode..." he mused. "And was it just me or did this guy look like he was drawn by Jack Kirby?"

"It was fine _this time_," Buffy replied shaking her head in disgust. "But what about the next time? I can't let any more girls fall through the cracks, Xander."

Xander adopted a more serious stance. "What happened with Amy and Warren wasn't your fault, Buf."

"Just like it wasn't my fault when The First killed all those potentials or when Angel killed Ms. Calendar or when Tara..." she replied bitterly. "Xander, somewhere along the line I'm going to have to take responsibility."

Xander cracked a goofy half-smile.

"What?" Buffy asked, irritated.

"Ask me again why your girls are having such a hard time learning about teamwork," he quipped.

Buffy could help but go a little smiley; somehow Xander always knew what she _needed_ to hear, whether she _wanted_ to hear it or not.

"I mean, you've got to stop trying to play Mother SuperiSlay," he continued, "you can't be responsible for what happens to every slayer everywhere."

----

Daniella was hunched over in the corner, weeping and shivering.

"Can you imagine being that one Beach Boy?" Sleeper asked, his tone twisted and philosophical. "Which one was it?"

Daniella was too busy choking and trying not to vomit again to answer him properly.

_"Dennis_, I think," Sleeper finally decided. "Imagine being Dennis Wilson."

Daniella tried not to think about what had happened, where she was or what she had done... but there was always the smell.

The smell made it real.

"Imagine taking Charles Manson and all his girls into your home," Sleeper continued. "Imagine seeing all the terrible things they'd done to all those people you knew..."

She could look away, she could close his eyes, she could even pretend none of it was her fault... but she could never fully escape the smell of the rotting corpses in the room.

"...Then, after all that, imagine having to go on stage and play 'Surfing Safari,'" Sleeper finished with a slight thoughtful chuckle.

It was the worst smell in the whole world... the world smell ever. "I can't..." Daniella wept.

Sleeper perked up an ear. "'Can't' what?"

"I can't do this any more," she sobbed.

Sleeper stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Are you sure?"

Daniella nodded weakly.

"Fine," Sleeper shrugged.

He gestured towards one of the other girls, he was fairly certain her name was Megan, but they all bleed together after a while. She closed the distance between herself and Daniella silently from behind. The other girl looked expectantly at Sleeper and, never one to disappoint, he waved a hand. In the blink of an eye, Megan had snapped Daniella's neck so hard her face ended up pointing in directions never intended by nature.

Sleeper looked down at the broken young slayer. Daniella had been the smartest of the girls, the most loyal and most dedicated. The violence had never suited her.

"Oh well," he shrugged, "plenty more where she came from."


	2. Chapter 2

**Then**

One of the really brilliant things about public buildings, Spike reflected, was that there was just no real way to keep a vampire out.

Oh, you can hide all you want, and you can run all you want, and you can even lock yourselves in the school gym if you think it'll help... But it's always just a matter of time.

"_I've_ got a taste for blood," Spike declared as his forces finally made their way through the barricades and began to cull their way through the crowd. "Leave the weak, leave the young," he ordered his men.

Fifteen hungry vampires turned as one to face their leader with a single unspoken "_huh_?"

Spike let out an annoyed grunt. "The weak don't taste right," he explained, clearly feeling this much should be obvious. "And they just make you all sad and droopy. Kill them and move on. As for the young..." he added smiling wickedly, "they belong to me."

"Are you sure about that Spike?"

Spike looked up and came face-to-face with the one person he had really been hoping to encounter tonight. "Hello, Slayer," he smiled. "How's your boy, then?"

But Nikki Wood wasn't the type to fall for Spike's little head games. "He's safe," she assured him, matching his smile with interest.

"Are you sure about that?" Spike asked, continuing their funny little dance. "After all, you've already invited me into your flat, it would no problem for me to pop back in."

Nikki wasn't about to raise to the bait, if she told Spike where Robin _wasn't,_ that was his first clue to as to where her son _was_, and the vampire was nothing if not single-minded about what he wanted. "I'm gonna make you a deal," she declared, letting him see her at full bravado.

"Oh?" Spike raised an eyebrow mockingly.

Nikki nodded. The hostages hadn't been harmed yet and Spike's men would not make a move without word from their leader; she could still get out of this without any loss of life. "This is about you and me," she cast her glance at the hostages. There were two girls in the crowd, shaking and shivering with fright. "Let the hostages go and we'll settle this."

"What?" Spike snorted. "One on one?"

Nikki shook her head, never letting her confidence waver. "Me, you, and every last one of your boys."

Spike's lips curled back into a snarling smile. "Now, you're talking."

"But you let these children go first," she insisted, never dropping her combat stance. "Every last one of them gets out alive."

"Every last one," Spike agreed.

Suddenly there was a loud popping noise as the two shivering girls exploded like balloons.

"Okay... that wasn't me," Spike said flatly.

----

**Scotland, Now**

"So, have you spoken to Andrew yet?" Xander asked as he sat down on his decidedly unmade bed.

"More times than I want to remember," Buffy groaned theatrically.

"About Warren," Xander supplied. Anytime he had to play the serious one he knew Buffy was something less than comforty.

"I will, it's just..."

"You're worried that he's going to jump ship when he finds out Warren's back," Xander finished.

Buffy flumped down on the bed next to him. "He's not evil, but he's just so easily influenced. First his brother, then Warren..."

Xander nodded. "Then us."

Buffy made her eyes all crossy. "When you point that out it just makes us look bad."

"Sorry," Xander replied sheepishly.

"But..." Buffy continued. "He's always looking for someone else to define him. To tell him who he is and what to do... and that's dangerous."

"Right," Xander agreed. "So why did we put him in charge of an army of untrained slayers again?"

Buffy shrugged. "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

As she sat there with Xander, Buffy couldn't help but think back on her recent dreams. While in theory all the girls were free to date on their nonexistent downtime, the fact was that they choose this castle because of its relative distance from any major city or town. Dating was difficult for any of them... and all but impossible for Buffy with her exponentially larger workload. It was only natural that her subconscious thoughts would wander in that direction. But Xander? After everything that happened?

In a mad attempt to distract her own mind, Buffy searched the room furtively for absolutely anything to comment on. "You know, if you didn't use all those blankets, you wouldn't need to keep that fan running all the time," she pointed out sagely.

"Ah, but without the fan I'd have no way of muffling the sweet, subtle sounds of young girls in combat boots," Xander countered.

Buffy raised an eyebrow dubiously. "And sound-proofing the room would require some sort of _contractor_, right?"

"Hey, that fan has a long and important history of blocking out noises and I'm not about to abandon it now," Xander argued.

"You've had it awhile, huh?" Buffy asked, getting the implication.

"Since I was a kid," he admitted.

And then there came another silence.

"Mister Harris! Ms. Summers!" A young slayer burst in shouting. Yet another case against sound-proofing.

"Yes?" Xander asked, more annoyed than he'd ever been to have someone burst into his room shouting his name before.

"You're both needed in the Situation Room immediately!" she shouted.

Buffy sighed. "Just let me grab my scythe."

Xander eyed her quizzically. "How do you know it's a scythey situation?"

Buffy shot him sarcastic face. "Xander, when has it ever _not_ been a scythey situation?"

Xander shrugged, she had him there.

----

"...And if I were the White Witch, I would have settled Aslan's hash, that's for sure," Willow told the young girls confidently. "It's all anti-witch propaganda, anyway."

"Hey, witchy woman," Xander called as he approached her. "Buffy needs you in the Situation Room ASAP."

"Oh, Xander..." Willow started. "I was just talking strategy with your main magic girls, here..."

"Uh-huh," Xander nodded, his voice sounding less than convinced. "She was talking about _the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ again, wasn't she?" he asked the young mystics.

"It reminds me a bad time in my life," Willow replied, reaching wildly for the nearest source of justification. "A time _you_ certainly didn't go out of your way to make easier."

"Yes, I was busy dealing with the wedgies, the swirlies, and the occasional purple nerple," Xander answered, taking her by the arm. "Now, let's head to the Situation Room, where there's a situation waiting for us."

----

When she entered the Situation Room, Buffy saw her two most trusted generals were already bickering, which could only be a good sign.

"Have you guys started the briefing yet?" she asked Willow and Xander.

"We were waiting for you," Xander answered guiltily.

Buffy nodded, then turned to the slayer who had been manning the Command Centre in her absence. "What's the story, Renee?"

"Well," Renee began, "as you know, locating a new Slayer is still not an exact science. While certain Potentials were discovered before they were called, many others were not found until significantly later. Ms. Summers herself..."

Xander stopped her with a finger. "Okay, Renee? We're loving the eager, but Buffy asked for the _story_. What you're giving us is the_ backstory_."

"Which we were kinda there for," Buffy pointed out diplomatically.

Renee nodded nervously. "We found another slayer..."

"Well, that's great," Willow said cautiously.

"...We found her disemboweled in a room full of human corpses," Renee finished.

"Okay," Willow admitted. "Less great."

"_Where_?" Buffy asked, instantly becoming all businessy.

"Not too far away," Renee affirmed, pulling out a map. "The site was in Falkirk."

"Of course, Falkirk," Xander said purposefully. Every girl in the room turned to face him and Xander was forced to admit. "I don't really know where that is."

"We haven't actually been there yet," Renee continued, "but Ofelia got a pretty clear vision of the place."

Buffy nodded grimly. "Get as much information as you can from her, but don't press her... that couldn't be easy for her."

"Yes, ma'am," Renee responded and left to comfort the ailing precog.

"So, I take it we're going to investigate?" Xander chimed in.

"Something is out there... and it's strong enough to kill a slayer. That seems like the job description to me," Buffy told him darkly.

"Do you need us to go with you?" Willow asked.

Buffy shook her head. "After what happened with Amy and those army guys, I don't feel safe leaving this place unprotected. And an army of slayers is one thing, but you two have more real world experience than all of them put together."

"You're not going in alone," Xander insisted.

"I'll take some of girls with me," Buffy agreed. "But only a few. I don't want to draw any attention."

"So... not Dawn, then?"

----

**Rome**

The smell of blood had been overpowering even from the street, and he had followed his nose, hoping to find someone still breathing, but not really expecting as much for a second.

No, Spike had known exactly what to expect.

The entire room had been splattered floor to ceiling with human remains, most of them clearly been torn apart by something powerful, but he noted three young girls (identifiable only by scent) that seemed have exploded from the inside.

He tried to convince himself that he would find the thing that did this, but he knew he never could. These people had been here for days, and there was nothing for him to track.

"So, where are you now, Sleeper?" he mused.


	3. Chapter 3

**Somewhere On the California Highway, 2002**

"Okay, what do you want to listen to?" Andrew asked, shuffling through a thick stack of battered tapes. "I've got Dead Milkmen, Talking Heads, They Might Be Giants..."

"This isn't a road trip, Andrew!" Jonathan snapped. "We aren't on our way to the San Diego Comicon..." he stopped and thought about it for a second. "Although that was fun..."

"Yeah," Andrew smiled. "I was so glad to finally get that bootleg DVD of 'Generation X' TV movie..." he reflected dreamishly.

"The point is, we're on a cross-country flight from the law with a psychotic witch breathing down our necks... Buffy's probably already dead and we're going to be next! We don't have time to be worrying about music!" Jonathan shouted. Then, seeing the hang-dog expression Andrew was currently sporting, he went a bit more softy. "Do you have any Mos Def?"

Andrew nodded. "Mos' definitely."

Jonathan choose to let him slide on that one. They'd been through enough lately.

"Do you know what I really miss about Warren?" Andrew said after several moments of silence. "It wasn't the... things we did together... I know those are just lies. I think I even knew that then," he admitted sadly. "What I miss most is knowing what to do. I never had to worry about the direction I was moving in, because Warren was there. Warren knew." He turned his eyes away from the rapidly passing white lines on the highway to face Jonathan. "Warren _always_ knew"

Jonathan nodded. Warren didn't care about Andrew; he didn't care about anyone other than himself... but there was no way Andrew would ever accept that. Not even after everything that happened.

Not even now.

"I miss that," Andrew said again.

**Scotland, Now**

As Xander observed the bustle of activity in the Activity Room, a familiar thought passed through his head: "I really wish I'd had those breasts installed. I've always wanted them and I'd use them for everything."

He knew he should be thinking deeper; whatever Buffy was going up against was strong enough to kill a slayer, and if ever the was a concept Xander had trouble with, it was that one. Now she was going to face the new threat head-on with only a few green teenage girls watching her back. He should be wigging for her. He was usually wigged for her with significantly less justification.

But for some reason he just couldn't seem to accept what Buffy was going into. He couldn't even focus on it.

He guessed he just couldn't accept that it was for real.

----

This was definitely for real.

The scene in Falkirk had been horrible beyond what Buffy had been ready for, even with the psychic warning. Even given her status as Senior Slayer, she'd be lying if she said that she had ever in gotten used to the feeling of walking through a room that was carpeted to the shins with what used to be human beings.

It had to a thousand times worse for the girls, many of whom had never even seen a body before.

She had to keep their minds on the mission, she couldn't let them get distracted. "Ofelia," she called.

The young psychic was swimming in the carnage... or drowning, as was more accurate. She had been able to sense it all the way in the Castle... now to stand in the middle of it had to be beyond overwhelming for her.

"_Ofelia_," Buffy called again, this time more forcefully.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Summers," Ofelia replied with a tone of watery sickness. "It's just so..."

Buffy nodded coldly. "Which is why we have to stop it." She could not let Ofelia or any of these girls think too much about what had happened here. "Right now I need you to focus. Can you see where they went? Are they coming back?"

Ofelia closed her eyes and reached out with her burgeoning Sight. After a painful moment of searching, she announced "They aren't far."

Buffy placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Can you track them?"

Ofelia nodded. She looked like she was about to cry. "I think so."

"Then let's go," Buffy ordered, getting her Scythe into position.

----

"You've got your facts a bit confused, pet," Spike corrected the young Slayer. "He actually based his performance in 'The Hunger' on a mate of mine... who I later ended up killing," he admitted. "He _did_ write 'Scary Monster (and Super Creeps)' about me and Dru, though."

"That's a good song," the girl agreed.

Before Spike could voice his views on the subject, Andrew interrupted. "The video up-link is ready, Spike." In truth, the video up-link had been ready for almost twenty minutes, during which he and Xander had re-enacted scenes from "The Wrath of Kahn," but Andrew felt that Spike didn't need to know that.

Spike nodded "And you're sure Buffy isn't there?"

"Just Xander and Willow and a bunch of girls whose names I can't remember," Andrew confirmed.

"Good," Spike said, steely.

"I think one of them has the same name as one Ryu's moves..." Andrew continued. "...Or was it Akuma?"

Spike buried his head in his hands. "Andrew, I don't care if it's Veruca Salt and a room full of Oomba-Loombas on the other end of the line, so long as it's not Buffy."

"It's not Buffy," Andrew affirmed.

"All right, then," Spike grunted. "Don't see why we have to use this videophone anyway."

"Well, that was my idea," Andrew reluctantly admitted.

"Of course," Spike snorted.

"See, we had this incident where a guy on the phone was pretending to be our contact," Andrew explained, "but it turned out he was actually just some old guy from the town trying to take pictures of the girls in underpants that weren't at all practical and..."

"Fine, whatever," Spike waved his hands and walked through the door into the Communications Room.

For a moment Andrew thought he was in the clear, until Spike popped his head back into the room. "And we will be discussing that little prank you pulled on me last time I saw you."

Andrew shrunk down into himself. "It seemed so funny at the time," he mumbled to no one in particular.

----

"Oh, _good_," Xander sarcasted, "it's _Spike_. And who wants to guess _which _Spike we'll be hearing from today? Will it be the Big Bad, the bargain bin Champion of the People, or (my personal favorite) the extra-crazy degenerate who mumbles to himself?"

"Actually," Spike snipped, "I'm here today as the Answer Man."

"Oh, really?" Xander xandered.

Spike nodded. "I know exactly who it is you lot are about to be banging your head against."

Xander still had his doubts, but Willow broke in. "What can you tell us?"

"He's a drug-dealer," Spike replied gruffly. "Calls himself 'the Sleeper.' Demon enough, but no real powers. Strictly minor league."

"How's he controlling the girls?" Willow asked, her voice rich with obvious concern.

Spike scratched his chin. "His people reproduce in spores, the male shoots them off, the female absorbs them... then she eats him alive while he still busy soaking up the afterglow."

Xander winced, that last part was a little too close to home for him.

Spike shrugged. "Sleeper could never really stand up to strong women, so he started selling his spores to other races as a powerful narcotic."

"Wait," Willow broke in. "You mean he's selling his own..."

Spike looked her dead in the eyes.

Willow gagged.

"Oh, it'll get you higher than Sputnik, that spunk," Spike affirmed. "But it's strictly demons only. No human would ever be able to take more than a hit without exploding from the inside out." He paused meaningfully. "Now, a **slayer** on the other hand..."

Willow and Xander got where he was going with this. "...Would have just enough demon in her to be able to survive it." Xander supplied.

"If you can call it that," Spike agreed darkly. "They're so addicted they'll do anything to get another hit and so strung out they don't even know what's real anymore."

"So, the question's not whether or not Buffy can bring this guy down..." Willow whispered.

"...But what we do with the survivors," Xander finished.

For a moment, they all just stood there and let the true horror of the implications set in. Then Xander broke the silence.

"Spike..." he paused. "Is it true that Angel fought a _dragon_?"

Spike's face contorted with rage. "Do you people realize that in the time it took him to _find a way up there _I had _single-handedly _taken out a whole _horde _of _Goonthrobs!"_

"I'm sorry, I..." Xander began, awkwardly.

"Those bastards are built out of solid rock and they bleed acid, but I demolished every last one of them!" Spike continued.

"Well, that is impressive, but..."

"And you want to talk about _Angel,_" Spike spat. "You better watch yourself, mate, or you're going to turn me back to the _old_ me!"

Xander could help but add "Didn't you already turn back into the old you like ten times already?"

Spike stared several hundred daggers into Xander. "Just don't let the Slayer know it was me that called you," he growled and severed the connection.

Xander looked around the War Room. "Okay, people, you heard the monster. Let's raise Buffy on the channels and let her know what she's going into."

----

"We've got a situation."

Sleeper stared at the mystical projection in front of him with understandable apprehension. "What _kind _of situation?"

"Buffy's on her way," his ally replied.

Sleeper got a bit rattley. "Are you positive?"

His ally nodded. "We bugged her commlines pretty well... no one some much as uses the bidet in that castle without sirens and warning buzzers going off on my end."

The slayers he had managed to ensnare had all been hurt, confused; several of them had accidentally killed family members when their powers first manifested themselves... this was another situation entirely. "There's no way I can control her and my girls can't stand up to a fully empowered slayer."

His ally smiled, a considerable trick without any skin on his face. "It's just like a well-played game of Yu-Gi-Oh... you have to know when to make a sacrifice." He pointed to the weapon he and his woman had given Sleeper the last time they met. "Or a Trojan Horse."

Sleeper looked down at the young girls collapsed around his feet and smiled. "Understood."


	4. Chapter 4

**Sunnydale, Spring 2003**

"I just don't understand why you and Faith are allowed back in the house like you never did anything," Andrew whined.

"It's _not _like we never did anything," Spike muttered bitterly. He and Andrew had been stuck together in the church for hours and Spike was going insane. The only comforting thought was that after the final battle with the First, he'd never see Andrew again. "We're both pretty well aware of what we've done."

"I know, but..." Andrew shrugged. "You too did _way_ worse things than I did... I mean, I heard Faith almost raped Xander once." Spike kept his silence. "And Buffy is still _way_ nicer to you two than she is to me."

Spike cocked his head to the side. "Now, you've seen the way Buffy talks to Faith, right?"

Andrew was silent, which Spike would generally have been grateful for, except it was a depressed, moody sort of quiet and, at that moment, Andrew reminded Spike horribly of that Hobbit from the movie.

"Is this going to be you complaining about how no one gives you a fair break again?" Spike asked, a little exasperated. "Because you do know Faith and I did put in a little more time being beaten and tortured and thrown in chains than you, right?"

"No, it's not that," Andrew shook his head. "It's just... I don't understand how she can forgive _any _of it." Spike looked at Andrew with genuine surprise for the first time. "I mean, I can't even forgive myself," Andrew explained.

"You shouldn't," Spike shrugged. "None of us should." Spike took a deep breath that he didn't really need and threw back his head. "Buffy's better than we are. She's a hero. If she forgives us... Well, it's more than we deserve, anyway," he chuckled.

For a moment, they just sat in silence.

Than finally, Andrew found his voice. "I have to urinate," he said softly, getting up and preparing to turn around.

Spike shot him a menacing look. "No, you don't."

Andrew sat right back down.

**Scotland, Now**

"This is building?" Buffy asked, glancing, from the safety of the shadows, at the decaying concrete and brick corpse across the street.

Ofelia nodded. She had taken them this far, but it looked like she'd have to sit out the rest of this fight or risk throwing up on Buffy's shoes again, which was exactly no option.

"Should we try to sneak in the back way?" Karina suggested helpfully.

Buffy scoped the building out. There was only one sentry posted and he hardly seemed like a challenge. "I've got a better idea," Buffy smiled. "Let's dress nice and flirt with the bouncer."

The guard was slightly shorter than Buffy, but his arms and legs were thicker than her whole body... looking at him, Buffy realized the only chapter of his life she didn't know at first glance was exactly how old he was when the shameful incident in the locker room took place. She walked right up to him with absolutely no regard for the fact that he was clearly the doorman to an urban fortress.

"Hi," she said casually.

"You shall not pass," he replied, sounding for all the world like he was made of granite.

"Okay, not a passing lane," Buffy agreed. "You got a name?" she asked sweetly.

"Denton," he more coughed than said.

"Okay, Denton," Buffy began warmly. "Can we get in here?'

He had a strange look on his face, like he was making a very concentrated effort to stare at his own nose, but couldn't get the focus right. "You shall not pass," he garbled flatly.

Buffy shrugged, she knew when she first saw mini-Hulk that she'd end up beating him senseless. "Okay, girls," she called back to her team, "he looks human, so I'm going for the wound..." Suddenly he slammed his fists together and five rows of wicked-looking thorns sprung out of his forearms. "On the other hand..."

-----

"Anyway, so we all thought we'd found the right spell, but it turns out it would have made Dawnie _much_ too small," Andrew babbled. "I mean, spiders would have started being a major problem, so..."

Spike was sure that if he spent another moment listening to Andrew, his brows were going to knit together permanently. "Andrew, for God's sake, mate..." began... then froze as he something hit him. "Wait. Dawn's giant now?"

Andrew nodded. "Bigger than big and taller than tall," he confirmed. "You didn't know that?"

"I have explained to you that I'm trying to maintain a low-profile with Buffy, right?" Spike replied, making sure that he kept his tone low and dangerous.

"No, I know," Andrew said nervously. "It's just... I don't know how well that's going to work now. I mean, are you sure you want to move in here?"

Spike took a good, long look at Andrew. "I have never been less sure of anything in my life."

-----

Buffy and the new Slayers were slowly making their way through the abandoned complex when the commline crackled into existence. "Buffy? Are you there?"

"Hey, Xander," Buffy replied warmly.

"Have you encountered any trouble so far?" Xander asked.

Buffy looked down at the severed head of the guard. "Nothing worth mentioning."

She could hear Xander unclench over the phone. "Good. We've just got some information on your guy."

"Really?" Buffy was genuinely surprised; beyond the Ofelia's vision, no one had been able to find anything. "Are you sure the information's good?"

And then she heard Xander clench up again. "We know the source... Willow thinks it's good."

Buffy's curiosity was piqued. "Who is it?"

"Uh... Clem," Xander replied very quickly. Before Buffy could make any further inquiries, Xander buried her an avalanche of Situation.

"So..." Buffy darkly reiterated. "This thing I'm looking for... this thing that can tear apart a Slayer..."

"Is another Slayer," Xander confirmed. "Or a bunch of them."

For a moment, Buffy just thought about it. Even if she killed this "Sleeper" demon, she might never be able to break the girls of their addiction. They had been given every advantage she had and they had become killers. But did that mean she had to put them down like rabid dogs?

"Buffy," Xander began in his softest "sanity" voice, "I want you to remember these girls aren't evil. They're just young and scared... confused... and they latched on to the first thing that came along to give them something to cling to. Even the smartest, strongest woman I know has hooked up with some guys she probably shouldn't have."

Buffy gave him a warm half-smile, which he could feel rather than see over the radio channel. "Xander..."

"Buffy..." he said "I was talking about Willow. I mean, there was that robot thing and Oz, nice guy and all but with cheating and also being a werewolf... I gotta tell you, going gay was the best choice she ever made... and not just for all the new visuals it put in my head, I mean..."

Buffy finally cut him off. "Thank you," she said simply.

"Always," he replied warmly. "We'll see you soon."

"Yeah," Buffy confirmed before severing the connection.

-----

As Buffy and her team began to search the mammoth, darkened squat in earnest, she couldn't help but reflect on Xander's words.

Buffy remembered what it was like when she first got her powers: the fear, the resentment... these girls were going through the same thing. She had dealt with addiction before, she thought hopefully, with Willow and Spike. And while the path had been long and more punchy and kicky and sobby and contained far more pleas to be killed than she was generally comfortable with... it had ultimately worked out.

Even Faith had made more progress than Buffy liked to give her credit for. Buffy was sure that they could find a way to help these girls.

There was only one minor obstacle.

"Where the hell are they?"

-----

Even with the place on alert, it was remarkably easy to slip a single teenage girl into a castle overflowing with them. There were enough Slayers from other bases coming and going all the time that an unknown girl didn't raise so much as eyebrow. The fact that she was carrying a wicked-looking stabbing tool was likewise overlooked, since all the other girls were similarly armed.

"So, what are we going to do with all these new druggie Slayers Buffy's going to bring back? Do you really think we can help all of them?" Willow asked seriously.

"We can try," Xander replied. "I mean, even Peter Parker had to drop the ball before he could accept the whole 'great responsibility' part of the deal... why shouldn't these girls have the same chance?"

"I guess so," Willow replied dubiously.

"Still, gotta feel for the girls on cleaning duty," he added with a smile.

"Synchronized withdrawal," Willow shook her head. "Even if there's only five or six of them..."

"Yeah, it's not going to be a pretty sight," Xander agreed. "Unless, you know, that's your scene."

Xander smiled as Willow laughed; he really missed times like these; it was almost like the old days.

Just then, a young Slayer he didn't recognize shoved passed Willow. Xander was about to remind her of the importance of proper hallway manners, when she struck him harder than he liked with layers upon layers of padding. "Hey, watch it!" he cautioned, wondering why Willow had gotten so pale all of the sudden.

Suddenly, everyone was swarming around Xander. He could feel Slayer arms reaching out to catch him and he was dimly aware of a fight going on in the periphery, but it was all rapidly becoming bleary.

"Relax, people," Xander said woozily. "You'd think this was the first time I ever got stabbed."

One of the other girls was screaming something about Buffy, but he couldn't quite get it.

"Usually cuts and scraps," he admitted weakly. "And it usually feels pretty different, but..."

It was then that Xander noticed they must have been using a new flavor of gravity around the Castle lately... it was pretty different than what he was used to, he thought idly as he slipped quietly into shock.


	5. Chapter 5

**England, Then**

"Ah, here you are," Xander warmly called out to the brooding Buffy.

"Hey," she replied, not even tearing her eyes away from the sea that stretched before her.

Xander took a moment to drink in the scene. "Is this where you tell me that you love the water?" Xander quipped.

Buffy shook her head solemnly. "I was just thinking the ocean looks weird, you know?" She turned to face him for the first time. "Like I'm, looking at it from the wrong side."

"You know, Tara just said the same thing," he replied seriously.

Buffy's eyes went wide.

"Or... she said something vaguely similar one time," he amended weakly.

Buffy's shoulders slumped. You never could tell.

"The point _is_," he recovered, "that you're _not_ on the wrong side of the ocean, Buf. You're facing the same direction you always were, it's just a different ocean. You might feel like you're life has changed so much, but it's just the address. You're still facing the same way you always were."

"That's not the ocean," Giles shouted over. "It's the English Channel."

Somehow Giles always had it in him to make Xander feel like an idiot. "It was a whole metaphor thing, Giles!"

"And what exactly what _was_ the metaphor there, Xander?" Giles asked. "It all seemed rather a jumble to me."

"I hadn't thought that far ahead," Xander admitted. "I usually just start talking and hope something works."

"I cannot tell you how surprised am I to hear you admit that," Giles chimed in.

Buffy smiled. Maybe an ocean really didn't change that much.

**Scotland, Now**

Buffy rushed to Xander's door to find Willow already there. "Hey," she 'hey-ed' awkwardly.

"Hey," Willow responded in kind.

"How is he?" she asked, as though his condition could have somehow changed in the thirty seconds since they'd severed the connection.

Then she realized that was actually a possibility, which made everything so much worse.

"Whatever was on that knife, magic just feeds it... if I keep trying to force this thing out..." Willow trailed off.

Buffy nodded. It seemed like the thing to do.

"We locked the girl who did this in the dungeon," Willow admitted, suddenly finding her shoes very interesting.

"Sure is nice to finally have a room designed for that," Buffy said softly.

"Some of... some of the girls want to kill her," Willow muttered sadly. After a moment, she added desperately "We aren't going to, are we?"

"I don't know," Buffy admitted. "Slaying's one thing, but I never saw myself performing public executions..." But she couldn't deny that she understood their feelings.

"Buffy, we need to find out what was on that knife as soon as we can," Willow said, knowing she was stating the obvious.

"We will," Buffy swore. "Can I see him?"

"Of course," Willow stumbled. "Why wouldn't you be able to?"

Buffy shrugged, not sure herself. "It's just something you say."

"Oh, right," Willow agreed. "I'll be out here..."

"Right," Buffy said without really thinking.

"...Guarding the wall," Willow continued, caressing the wall like a lover.

Buffy brushed past her and made her way into Xander's darkened room.

Xander himself was strapped down to a bed that Willow and the girls had propped at a forty degree angle. It wasn't an ideal solution, but it seemed to the only thing that cut down on the level of blood pouring out of his non-healing mystical wounds... if only slightly.

"Hey, Buf." He was clearly trying for nonchalant, but was hindered somewhat by the fact he could only speak in strained grunts. "I'd get up, but I'm really having problems standing now... also sitting and lying down."

"It's okay," she said softly. "How are you doing?"

"Well, I do have this stabbing pain," he quipped. "And I seemed to be cursed for all eternity."

"I assume you already tried the kiss of true love?" she asked, trying to match his tone.

"Yeah, first thing we tried," he attempted, doing his best attempt at a smile... which is to say, a weak grimace. "The girls were really good about that."

Buffy nodded, of course they were.

"You know," he began, "there was a time when I would have really liked the idea of being kissed by a room full of eager girls. We'll call that the 'not dying' phase of my life."

"Xander..." she whispered. "We'll get you through this. We'll find those girls and we'll..."

"Buf..." he said, shifting his tone, "This doesn't change anything."

Buffy took a step backwards. "What?"

"I mean, it kind of changes the part when I can live and walk and jump and breathe," he conceded. "But not what I said about those girls... We've all done things we aren't proud of and they still deserve a chance."

Buffy could hardly believe what she was hearing; Xander really had started thinking like a Watcher.

"Except maybe the one that stabbed me," he added. "Her I'm less than crazy about for some reason."

----

Sleeper smiled, it had all gone exactly as planned. He had been able to deal a crippling blow to the Slayer's morale _and_ distract her enough to make good his escape. True, it had cost him a perfectly good safehouse, but he had more than a few of those scattered throughout Europe. Staying one step ahead should be no problem.

Yes, the Slayer was going to looking for him for a good, long time.

It was just about then that Buffy dropped down behind him and slammed his head against the wall, knocking him unconscious.

"Hi, everybody," she said, turning to the girls strewn all over the cold, warehouse floor. Not one among them seemed well acquainted with lucidity at the moment, while the girls she had surrounding the exits were among her best and brightest. "Welcome to the Buffy Summers Rehabilitation Clinic."

----

Andrew never felt right keeping secrets from Buffy, especially one this major. But he pushed his concerns away, convincing himself that this was all for the best. He had always felt miscast in the mentor role... like every non-James Earl Jones to play Darth Vadar. Maybe this was the digital recast the girls needed.

Anyway, he reflected, it wasn't like Spike was going to get the girls in any trouble.


End file.
